a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere
by SkyTate
Summary: feeling empty after the love of his life left him, Sky's life becomes unbearable to live. After almost attempting suicide, a young guy will show him that nothing is lost for him…  Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey SLASH!
1. I Guess This is It

**Author: **SkyTate

**Title:**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere

**Summary: **feeling empty after the love of his life left him, Sky's life becomes unbearable to live. After almost attempting suicide, a young guy will show him that nothing is lost for him… (Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey SLASH!)

**Pairing: **Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey

**Rate: **K+

**A\N: **who ever thought about Sky and Casey together? You know that I'm crazy….

_**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere**_

_**By**_

_**SkyTate **_

**-Chapter 1: I Guess This is it-**

My life closed twice before its close;  
It yet remains to see  
If Immortality unveil  
A third event to me,  
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,  
As these that twice befell.  
Parting is all we know of heaven,  
And all we need of hell.  
**~Emily Dickinson**

Sky pushes his chair back and stands up abruptly, the legs making a loud squeak on the kitchen floor. "Wait, what are you talking about," he demands, hands reaching out to grip the top of the chair. "What procedure? I don't understand."

Bridge flinches at the sudden movement but keeps his eyes fixed on the tabletop, rubbing his palms back and forth over his thighs. "You know," he mumbles, "the one that's been on the news?"

Sky just stares at him, jaw clenched tightly. Bridge doesn't look up as he continues, "The one that they've been testing on trauma patients. It does the targeted memory removal and they just opened it up to the public so—"

"So what, you thought you'd just erase me?" Sky grits out cutting him off, breaths coming fast and shallow and knuckles turning white with his grip.

"No, that's not it!" Bridge yells out, raising his voice for the first time since their argument started. He looks up finally, his eyes large and glassy, pain and what looks a lot like fear etched into the lines of his face. "It – it was supposed to just get rid of the bad memories! All the fighting we've been doing, how much we've been hurting each other. I didn't know it could… that there might be side effects." He turns his hands in his lap, staring back down into his open palms like he's hoping to find some answers there.

Sky tries to take a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He can feel the sting of tears burning behind his eyelids and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, refusing to let them fall. "So what happens now?" he asks, even though he already understands and doesn't want to hear the answer anyway.

Bridge doesn't speak or move for a long time, instead just letting his own tears fall hot down his face, small choked whimpers escaping from the back of his throat. Sky sits down across from him again, his hands reaching out across the table hesitantly. Bridge nods silently, hands moving on top of the table and slipping into Sky's waiting palms. "They called it 'progressive specific amnesia'," he says, barely a whisper.

Sky squeezes his hands gently, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes, unable to hold them back any longer as he waits for the rest. "So it won't be all at once," Bridge continues, voice still quiet and uncharacteristically flat. "I've already started forgetting things, what we did last night, what we ate. It might take a few weeks before I forget everything, and generally it works backwards – the newest memories disappearing first. And it's specific, so… so that means…" he trails off, afraid to say out loud what they already know.

"That it'll only be memories that involve me." Sky finishes when Bridge doesn't, needing to actually hear the words so he can process them fully.

Bridge closes his eyes, unable to look at Sky as he confirms with a shaky, "Sorry".

They sit in silence for a few minutes, nothing but the sounds of their unsteady breathing and the whir of the refrigerator surrounding them. "We could have just worked through it," Sky states finally, sounding more resigned than anything. "Like all the other times, we would have made it work."

Bridge smiles at him, small and sad. "I was tired of being miserable," he says. "I thought if I got rid of the bad, we could go back to how we were." He tightens his grip on Sky's hands and adds, "I know I was wrong."

"We can still make it work, even after…" Sky offers, fighting the dizzy feeling building in the front of his skull. "It'll be hard, but that's what you do right? Love is hard – you just have to work even harder for it sometimes."

"This hard?" Bridge asks, his empty tone knocking the breath out of Sky. "I… I don't know a lot about love, but I don't think it's supposed to be this hard. I don't think we should have to work _this hard._"

Sky stares at Bridge, his eyes pleading in a way those words can't. "I would," he insists, trying to ward off the panic engulfing him. "I would because I love you."

Bridge gives a final squeeze before letting go of Sky's hands and standing, turning toward the door before he can second-guess his decision. He stops with his hand on the doorknob and looks over his shoulder one last time. "And I won't, because I love you more," he says, opening the door.

The words ring out in the room even after Sky hears the door close and when they finally stop, so does his world…


	2. The Journal

**Author: **SkyTate

**Title:**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere

**Summary: **feeling empty after the love of his life left him, Sky's life becomes unbearable to live. After almost attempting suicide, a young guy will show him that nothing is lost for him… (Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey SLASH!)

**Pairing: **Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey

**Rate: **K+

**A\N: **who ever thought about Sky and Casey together? You know that I'm crazy….

_**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere**_

_**By**_

_**SkyTate **_

**-Chapter 2****: The Journal-**

A large, yellow envelope comes in the mail a month and a half later, no return address listed on it and Sky's name and address written in clean, looping letters that he immediately recognizes as Maya's handwriting, Bridge's mother. There's nothing else distinct about the envelope except for a single sentence written on the back that simply reads, "I'm sorry Sky." Somehow he believes her, but it doesn't ease the dull ache behind his eyes or the sudden feeling that everything good in his life has been reduced to this – to an inanimate object that feels too heavy in his hands and somehow so empty at the same time.

He throws the envelope onto the coffee table in front of him, knocking over a mug of tea that's gone cold. The brown liquid sloshes onto the glass, spilling over the edge of the table onto the carpet. He doesn't clean it up, and he doesn't open the envelope.

When he finally does, it's a week later and he's had one too many beers from the case he bought only for himself. He tears the top of the envelope open with clumsy hands and the journal comes tumbling out onto the carpet. By the music note branded delicately onto the front of it, he immediately recognizes it as the one he'd bought for Bridge last Christmas. Sky had agonized for weeks over what to get him, but when he saw the design, he knew it was perfect. Bridge had loved it, his face lighting up brighter than the Christmas lights on the tree when Sky told him that it was for the songs he liked to pretend he wasn't writing in his spare time. The memory lingers in Sky's head like a phantom now, and he stares at the journal on the floor for a few minutes, eyes half closed and brain clouded from the alcohol and weeks of sleeplessness. When he bends over to pick it up, his hands tremble and he loses his grip a few times before he succeeds. The worn leather of the cover is soft and giving under his rough fingertips and he just holds the journal, trying to feel the ghost of Bridge's hands under his. But no matter how hard he concentrates, he can't; the journal still feels cold and lifeless in his hands like the envelope it was delivered by hands.

He opens the front cover carefully, hearing the crack of the spine and the crinkle of the leather. Bridge's small, crooked scrawl is written on the first page, just two lines on their own, the red ink they were written in bright against the white of the paper. "Read it and please try to understand," it says, followed by, "I love you." Sky lets out a mirthless laugh, no more than an abrupt puff of air, and tears the page out, crumpling it in his hand and pulling the journal to his chest with the other. He falls onto his side on the couch, legs dangling over the edge and journal held tight against him as he waits for sleep to come or to wake up from this nightmare he feels like he's living.

As he gives into unconsciousness, the page slips from his hand and rolls across the floor, but the journal remains pressed hard against his chest, leaving an ache to mirror the one inside.

When he wakes up the next morning, his vision is blurred by the throbbing pain in his head and his eyes sting from the lines of light seeping through the cracks in the blinds. He turns over, nearly rolling off the couch as he reaches for his cell phone on the coffee table. Though he knows he shouldn't, he thumbs through his contacts, pressing send when Bridge's number pops up. Just like every morning when he's tried calling for the past month, the same robotic voice rings in his ear, telling him that the number is disconnected. And just like every morning for the past month, he sets the phone back down and treads into his bedroom to put some clothes on before he leaves for the coffee shop. Only this time, when he goes, he brings the journal with him.

He sits at the same table and one of the barmen, a tall, blond guy named Ty, brings him over his usual cup of black coffee. He drinks half and then gets lost in thinking about the journal on the table. He picks it up and turns it in his hand over and over, not even wanting to open it and read any more, but just feeling the weight shift in his palms as he stares at it.

He barely notices when Ty slips into the seat across from him, setting the half full coffee pot and his wet rag in front of him on the table. Sky stills his hands and tears his gaze away from the journal to look up, only because he knows that's what Ty is waiting for.

"You see that guy over there," Ty says, gesturing with his head, a blond swoop of hair falling into his face. Sky looks in the direction of the motion to see a short brunette with a too big plaid shirt setting up with his guitar near the small stage in the shop, tongue peeking out slightly from between his lips in concentration.

"That's Casey," Ty continues. "Cute, right?"

Sky furrows his eyebrows and takes a sip of coffee. "I didn't think you were…" he replies.

"No, that's not the point," Ty cuts him off, waving a hand. "The point is that he's been singing here every week for the past month, and you've never even noticed him."

"So?" Sky asks, wishing Ty would just get to the point. He's a nice enough guy, but too talkative sometimes and Sky hasn't been in the mood for that in a while.

Ty frowns slightly and speaks slower, like Sky really doesn't understand anything at all. "Okay… the first week he played here, he pretty much stared at you his whole set. He fucked up a really easy song, and it's definitely not because he sucks."

"Mmm hmm," Sky murmurs in response.

"The week after that," Ty adds, staring intently at Sky, "he played some seriously sappy shit and he kept peeking at you over the microphone the whole song."

Sky nods. "Okay."

Ty rolls his eyes and sighs loudly. "Last week he did a cover of the love song from that Irish indie movie," he says. "You know the one. He kinda sucks at the whole subtle thing if you ask me."

"I've heard it," Sky replies evenly, easily masking his growing annoyance. Ty means well, but the conversation is rapidly approaching an uncomfortable zone for Sky. He can tell.

"Except not when he did it," Ty continues on, unaware of Sky's thoughts. "You haven't heard a single thing he's sang somehow, even though most of it is directed at you."

"I… I just have things on my mind," Sky says defensively, pulling the journal closer towards him.

Ty raises his hands in surrender. "I get that, you know I do," he says firmly, hoping to calm Sky. "But dude, I think you're killing him from the inside out."

Sky is the one to roll his eyes this time, but Ty just keeps going. "Seriously man, I saw his set list; it's half love sick mush and half emo bullshit. It's like he's going schizo or something. You should really just put him out of his misery already, since you're obviously not interested and he's been sending you signals like his ship is going down in shark infested waters."

Ty really is kind of funny when he's exaggerating, with his big eyes and waving hands. Part of Sky wants to laugh, but instead he just replies with, "Yeah".

Ty stands to refill Sky's cup and shakes his head, resigned to the fact that Sky probably hasn't really been paying attention to what he just said either. "Yeah, okay. Just think about it…" he mumbles as he walks back to the counter.

Sky turns to look at the stage again, inadvertently catching the guy – Casey apparently– staring at him. Sky looks away quickly, but not before he catches the way Casey' eyes grow wider and his cheeks turn just barely pink. As much as he'd hate to admit it, Ty is right; Casey is cute and he's definitely interested. It's flattering, but not something Sky is able to deal with. He throws a few dollars on the table for Ty and leaves before Casey' set starts.


	3. First Meeting

**Author: **SkyTate

**Title:**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere

**Summary: **feeling empty after the love of his life left him, Sky's life becomes unbearable to live. After almost attempting suicide, a young guy will show him that nothing is lost for him… (Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey SLASH!)

**Pairing: **Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey

**Rate: **K+

**A\N: **who ever thought about Sky and Casey together? You know that I'm crazy….

_**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere**_

_**By**_

_**SkyTate **_

**-Chapter 3****: First Meeting-**

Somehow he makes it home, navigating the walk unaware until he ends up on the couch in front of the TV. And without even realizing, Sky finds himself staring at the fuzzy, grey television in front of him hours later. He doesn't know exactly how long it's been like that, doesn't even remember the channel going out, but judging by the dull ache in the base of his spine, he'd say he's been sitting there like that for quite a while. He should get up, turn it off and drag himself to bed, but moving is not an option. Moving requires the desire to do something other than sit here – a will, and that's something that left with Bridge – so he just stares blankly at the screen until his eyes become unfocused and dry. Until he's not staring at anything at all.

He grips the journal until his knuckles ache and turns it over in his hands, thinking about how everything in his life seems to have changed with one single action. _He_ left, and everything just came to a stop. Like a switch got turned off and suddenly he didn't like anything, didn't want anything, didn't care enough to do anything. His guitar collects dust in the corner now and he feels like he hasn't slept in a year. Even when he can close his eyes long enough to fall into his dreams, all he sees are pictures in his head that remind him. His friends stopped trying to call about a week ago. He hasn't even seen them in weeks, or anyone other than the people who come and go in the coffee shop. The worst part is that he doesn't even miss them, doesn't even think about them. All he can seem to focus on is the hollow feeling in his stomach that never leaves and the restless twitch of his fingers.

He's stuck in an empty existence and tonight isn't the first time that he's tried to figure out how to put an end to this constant soullessness that's taken over his life. The only solution he can ever come up with is to put an end to the _life_ itself. He doubts there's anyone who it would make much of a difference to, no one who would really miss him at this point, no one who's life would change drastically except for his own in that it would be over and he wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. But before now he could never really think of a way to do it that seemed _right_. Tonight though, he thinks about going to his roof and jumping. Just taking a deep breath and falling from the edge. It would be like letting go of everything and just flying away from all of this. He can already imagine the feeling of floating through the air, the wind cool and sharp against his face and wrapping around him, making him weightless, empty in a completely different way. And just as quick as his feet leave the ledge, it would be over. Instant relief. It would feel like the sweetest kind of freedom. It's fucking poetic if you ask him, and he's always been drawn to that sort of thing anyway.

He's up off the couch and into the hallway before he can give it a second thought, shoes forgotten because it's not like he really needs them anyway. He climbs the stairs to the roof, closing his eyes as he steps onto it, and breathes in the night. The cold tile of the roof is shocking against his bare feet, as is the air as it fills his lungs, sharp and fresh. But it feels good, so much better than anything's felt in a long time. The feeling spreads slow through his body, so amazing to just finally feel _real_ again.

But when he opens his eyes, he's pulled out of his reverie by the man already standing beside the ledge. His hair is a mess, like his hands have been running through it all night, and he's shoeless as well, a thin pair of pajama pants hanging low on his hips and draping loosely overtop his bare feet. His t-shirt is pulled tight across the muscles of his back as he leans against the ledge, the grey fabric shining in the moonlight like the marble of a statue, vaguely reminiscent of some stone angel watching over the city. The thought that maybe he's up here for another purpose crosses Sky's mind before he pushes it back and reality comes back into focus. Purpose and fate are things he stopped believing in a while ago, and there's no reason to start now. The reality is that Sky came up here for a completely different reason, and this man just happens to be directly in his way.

When Sky walks over and leans beside him on the ledge, he startles, a small breathy sound escaping his lips as he turns his head to the side. Sky realizes that it's the same man from the café, the Casey guy that Ty tried so hard to make him notice, and he laughs inwardly at the irony. He definitely notices him now. Casey' cheeks darken slightly as he realizes who is standing beside him, but he relaxes and turns back to face the ledge. "Oh, hi," he says, barely louder than the traffic below.

"Casey, right? From the café?" Sky asks to fill the silence.

"Um, yeah," Casey replies, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. "Guess you weren't ignoring me completely."

Sky rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel like…" he trails off. "I just can't."

Casey shrugs. "It's cool. I kind of figured after you took off early today and Ty tried to slip some whiskey in my coffee. Why else would he think I need the alcohol?"

"Sorry," Sky says. "You seem like a nice guy and all, but it wouldn't be a good idea."

"Don't worry about it," Casey chuckles, slightly off. "So, you live here too?"

Sky nods. "Yeah, fourth floor."

"Cool, I'm on the third," Casey says, fingers tapping against the ledge. "Do you, uh, think we could hang out sometime maybe?"

"Uh…" Sky mumbles, wondering if Casey really got what he was saying.

"I mean as friends. It's just that I don't really know a lot of people here yet," he says, standing and turning to lean with his back against the ledge. "And since we live in the same building, it'd just be nice to have someone around."

Sky turns his head to actually look at Casey. "I get the feeling you could use the company too," Casey adds before Sky can respond.

Sky grips the ledge and leans forward to look over. Visions of his earlier thoughts pass through his head, but suddenly they don't seem so perfect. Maybe it wouldn't be completely horrible to have something to look forward to – a distraction. And the ledge certainly isn't going anywhere. "Not sure I'm much company, but I guess that'd be okay," he agrees.

"Great," Casey responds with a relieved sigh, like he'd been holding his breath. "Would you want to maybe grab some lunch at the diner across from the café tomorrow? I hear good things about it."

"Sure, lunch," Sky nods.

Casey pushes away from the ledge and starts towards the stairs. "Alright, it's freezing up here, so see you then?" he asks.

"Yeah," Sky says, "see you then."

The door closes somewhere behind Sky and he takes a deep breath as he looks over the edge of the roof one last time. As quickly as he came up to the roof, he's back down the stairs, settling into his couch with the journal and finally opening it….


	4. The 1 Journal's Entry

**Author: **SkyTate

**Title:**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere

**Summary: **feeling empty after the love of his life left him, Sky's life becomes unbearable to live. After almost attempting suicide, a young guy will show him that nothing is lost for him… (Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey SLASH!)

**Pairing: **Sky\Bridge - Sky\Casey

**Rate: **K+

**A\N: **who ever thought about Sky and Casey together? You know that I'm crazy….

_**a Melody Softly Soaring Through My Atmosphere**_

_**By**_

_**SkyTate **_

**-Chapter 4****: The 1° Journal's Entry-**

_Every time I look at this journal, I remember that day you came home early from work and caught me at the piano trying to write a song. It wasn't even anything to be ashamed of, but I was so embarrassed that you walked in on me doing it that I wanted to run away and hide. We shared everything, but for some reason it just seemed too private. I should have known you would understand, and you must have because all you did was kiss me on the top of my head and tell me it sounded nice before walking into the kitchen to make dinner. When you didn't mention it again after that all I felt was relieved._

_But then you bought me this journal for Christmas three months later anyway. I was confused when I opened it but you just said, "So you can write your songs, if you want to." The cover was so pretty and I just sat there tracing my finger over the music note again and again. I told you that I was going to save it for something special, something more important and you shook your head and told me that was why it was for my music, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You always were so good at being subtle when you wanted to be. Even when I didn't think I deserved it, you supported me in every way and it made me want to burst with happiness just to realize it._

_I guess my point is that you were always there for me, __Sky, and I didn't live up to my end of the bargain because I'm not there for you anymore. That's why I wanted to write this for you; I want to you to have this part of me. A reminder for when my memories are gone and I can't remind you how important to me you are anymore. I know you might not believe me now, but it is true._

_I finally found something that was important enough for this journal, so I'm asking you to be there for me one last time and just read it. _

Sky traces the music note on the cover of the journal with his finger before setting it down. The roof, Casey, the journal – it's all too much for one day. Sky lies down on the couch before the headache building in the front of his head can grow and falls into another night of dreamless sleep, the feeling of the indentation in the leather of the journal burning itself onto the calloused skin of his finger like another memory…


End file.
